Broken
by hammierox
Summary: On the outside, everyone knows Haymitch Abernathy is strong minded, determined, cold, and brutally honest. But Haymitch knows he's one thing- broken. Broken ever since the day his name was chosen. Broken because the odds weren't in his favor. Broken because they had never been. Haysilee, Haymitch/OC, Haymitch/ Madge's mom (friends!), Hayffie. Plenty of Haymitch ship fluffy time.
1. Chapter 1

Just wanna say, thanks for reading. I hope you like it. :)

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Morning slips too soon. I wake up, shivering, and I reach for the blanket, which my brother has stolen. Great.

Thanks to the cool morning air, I'm already wide awake. I hoist myself up, looking at our dimly lit log cabin. I sit, propped up against the headboard, and glance around our home.

My family does well for people in District 12, but we still can't afford a house that fits all of us together.

We're still not rich enough to escape the aura of poverty that the entirety of District 12 seems to hold.

My mother is sleeping on the opposite bed, clutching my sister to her chest. When she's calm in sleep, she doesn't look so threatening. Not as many creases of worry etched onto her face, no threatening glare in her eyes. Everything seems softer in sleep.

Meanwhile, my bulk of a brother has rolled onto the floor. I sigh. Sometimes he acts more like a dog than a human.

More room for me, I suppose.

I get up, trying to walk softly.

Unfortunately, our floors are creaky, and soon enough my sister's awake.

"Hi Rose," I whisper as she gets out of bed and walks over to me. I ruffle her dark brown hair.

My sister means the world to me.

As she looks up at me, I continue. "Shh, go back to sleep, okay? It's reaping day, you might want to sleep in."

She shakes her head and decides to come outside with me. Oh well.

She walks over to the small wreck of an apple tree in our back yard, and bends down and grabs two wooden swords. They're blunt and horribly carved, by me, so they're harmless.

Still, we make sure not to flaunt them. The Peacekeepers are unpredictable here.

Rose smiles sweetly and gives one to me, then points back to my snoring brother.

He's awkwardly slouched on the floor, snoring so loudly that I swore even the birds were staying away.

I love Brutus, but he can be utterly foul sometimes.

Great. My little sister wants me to sword fight with my brother. Then again, it is pretty funny when I beat him.

I sigh and walk back into our sooty home, and shake my brother awake. One look at the wooden sword in my hand and he's up, ready to fight.

Most people think we're odd, waving otherwise useless swords in each other's face, but hey, who knows when one of us will be picked at the reaping.

As the familiar clank from out swords sound in the air, we dodge, duck, and slash. Still, it takes an hour before we finish.

By that time Rose is giggling, because apparently Brutus's wacky fighting style is amusing. As he hears her tinkling laugh, he dances with his sword awkwardly, flailing his arms into the cool morning air. Rose's laughs are filling the air now.

It's good though. Not too many children can be happy when it's reaping day.

Our mother is at the door, completely awake. She's smiling faintly, as if recalling some sweet memory. I can't imagine what she's thinking about. Not too many happy memories that revolve around beating your brother with a stick.

Being the eldest son, I have to taking care of the family.

Since our father's death, Brutus is incapable of taking care of himself. Apparently being in the mines while watching your father falling to his death is too traumatizing to bear. So traumatizing, in fact, that you lose the will to live.

I'm thankful that I wasn't in that mine with them.

So, even though I don't understand it, I'm technically the head of the family. I pick Rose up in my arms and walk into the house. Might as well have breakfast.

After breakfast, I get dressed and walk over to the bakery where she's already waiting. My girl.

She's truly beautiful, with dark hair that swirls in the wind and a smile that could brighten any day.

Right now she's sitting on the wooden bench outside of the bakery, twirling a dandelion in her hand.

"Hey." I walk over to her.

"Hey," she whispers. She looks up at me with beautiful olive eyes.

I hug her close. "Nervous?" I ask.

She smiles softly. "Aren't we all?"

I can't argue with that.

We step into the bakery, the smell of fresh bread making my mouth water even though I just ate breakfast.

I face my girl, smiling. "Hey, let's get us some cheese buns, okay?"

She flashes a dazzling smile right back.

I give the baker a few silver coins, but he gives back half. I look up at the guy questioningly, but he just shrugs.

No use in being stingy on reaping day, I suppose.

I hand Lily a cheese bun, and we walk out of the building.

We eat in silence, but that's quite common on reaping day.

Nothing to talk about when two innocent children will be sent to their deaths.

District 12's only ever had one winner- and she died a few years back due to a morphling overdose.

So, basically, two small children will be sent to an arena without the guidance of a mentor.

It's terrible to think about.

Soon enough, the cheese buns are done, and Lily and I part.

She gives me a kiss on the cheek and walks away.

I really hope she isn't picked at the reaping.

By 2:00, we're all gathered in the town square, all sullenly glancing at one another, dreading for our loved ones, silently hoping it's anyone but me, anyone but me.

Of course, since Brutus is 14, and Rose is 9, I only have to worry about myself and Brutus. Which is better than some families, I suppose. I could fare much worse.

After all, my stomach tightens with the prospect of sweet, sweet Rose being hurt. I couldn't stand it if her name was called.

Brutus would probably make me feel the same, but with his physical strength, he'd have a much bigger advantage than Rose.

Anyways, since my mother works at the flower shop, and Brutus and I work in the mines, my family is considerably richer than others.

So I don't need to sign up for tessera.

I stand in line with some other boys, looking at their chipped nails and visible cheekbones. They probably needed the extra grain. I feel sorry for them, but hey, better them than me.

As I stand there, I silently calculate my chances. My name is only four in thousands, so the odds should be in my favor…

But if by some slim chance I am picked, I'm basically dead. For the quarter quell this year, there would be double the tributes. So, basically, if I can't make it out alive with 24 tributes, I definitely can't with 48.

I can only silently pray that it won't be me.

The anthem blares, and the mayor speaks up. It's the same speech every year, so I block him out and continue with my thoughts. After all, they're far more interesting than some monotonous Capitol speech about how we deserve our children to be murdered.

That was my mistake, because next thing I know, the two girl tributes are called. I pause for a moment to sympathize with the blonde girl wailing for the first.

The boy's name is called. Some guy named Sean Hunter. Must be a guy from the Seam. He's got the same dark hair and olive eyes they all do.

But then the next name is called.

I don't register it at first, but then our escort repeats it.

Her voice loud and clear, it's impossible to miss, even with her heavily accented Capitol tone.

My heart drops to my stomach as I hear my name.

Haymitch Abernathy.

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So, I hope you like it! :D

Did you? Did you?

I hope so…

And if you did, feel free to drop a favorite, follow or review! :D

Thanks for reading!

~hammierox


	2. Chapter 2

_Haymitch Abernathy._

The name was still ringing in my ears. _My name._

It takes me a while to register it, but when I do, it strikes me hard. So hard that it feels as if I can't breathe.

I'm going in the arena. That's practically a death sentence here in Twelve, as we've only ever had one victor.

Except this time, there's going to be _double _the tributes. 47 other tributes who all want to stay alive just as much as I do.

Except they'll have mentors. Tough, strong, trained people who have already been through their own Games.

And what do I have? I have a chirpy escort who's dressed like a clown, and three other miserable looking tributes.

I'm just praying that my death will be quick and painless.

With a turn of my head, I catch all the sympathetic yet expectant glances.

For a moment I'm confused. What are they all waiting for?

Then it hits me. I do have to walk up to the stage.

With slow, heavy steps, I make my way up with a stony expression. I can't show fear or anger or sadness.

Not while I'm being broadcasted on live television.

I mostly drown out the speech that they make after the reaping, instead spending my few minutes frantically scanning the crowd.

There's my mother.

Brutus. Rose.

Lily.

The cheese buns seem like ages ago. I wonder if she'll miss me.

The speech is over too soon, and I'm being dragged over to the Justice Building. I feel the rich velvet between my fingers, dreading my final goodbyes.

How do you say goodbye to the very people you can't live without?

Two Peacekeepers burst through the door, bringing my mother and Rose with them.

Their eyes are both shining with tears, fear, desperation.

My mother grabs onto my shoulders desperately. "You can do it, Haymitch. You can win," she says in a hurried whisper.

I nod, my expression still unreadable. I speak back in a voice so blank I don't recognize it myself. "You have to take care of everyone, Ma. You guys can still feed yourselves, live without tesserae."

I can see her nod, but she's trying to block out my words because they hold my acceptance. Acceptance that I will die.

Rose doesn't say a word until the Peacekeepers come back in and drag them out. As she's dragged further away, she screams. "Win Haymitch! You can!"

And I know that I have to try, at least.

Lily walks in after. We immediately hug, knowing words cannot explain our feelings. I stroke her hair.

When our time is up, she walks away with nothing but a small hug and a whisper of good luck.

She's strong. She'll get over it.

Next comes Brutus. He's as bulky as ever, but there are tears in his eyes that completely set off the tough guy look.

"You can do it Haymitch." He speaks quickly. "You can swordfight, which gives you a way to hunt and kill. If you don't get anything at the Cornucopia, find some sort of weapon. You can make it out of there alive."

I nod, but I remain silent. A Peacekeeper motions for Brutus that it's time to go.

Just as he turns to leave, he drops a necklace in my hand. "Here. A token."

It's not much, a piece of string with a crudely carved sword, but I recognize it. My father used to make these with us, when he wove stories of brave knights and heroes.

I grin for the first time since the reaping.

Soon enough, we're whisked away on a train, heading towards the Capitol.

Since it's already 6:00, the tables are set for dinner. The food's extravagant, much more detailed and appealing than the meals back home.

The Capitol's not lacking in that aspect.

Then my mind goes grim again. I'm about to face 47 other tributes, 3 from my very own District 12. And I'm worrying about food.

I quickly glance over to the others. Their faces are contorted into frowns as well. One's eyes are red from crying. I don't know their names, and I'm glad for that. I don't want to get closer to any of them.

Considering at least 3 of us won't make it out alive.

When I wish again that I'll come out alive, I feel sick.

What makes me deserve a life anymore than these others? Sure, I have a family to look after, but what about the small blonde who was sobbing her heart out for the first girl? Why should I live, above 47 others?

The truth is, we all have 48 families to return to, and 47 of those will be disappointed. We all have parents we love, and I'm sure many of us have a boy or girl who's waiting on us.

Suddenly I don't feel so hungry anymore.

Shivering inside, I stop an Avox to ask them where my room is.

When I get to my bedroom, I don't want to change. Or wash. Or think.

I don't want to do anything anymore. I've completely shut down. I can't feel anything anymore, my stomach's swirling. But it doesn't matter, because I'm cold. I'm empty.

I'm numb.

I just plop down on my bed, wearing the same clothes I did at dinner. I hear my name called a couple times outside the room but I don't bother to answer.

A day in this place and I've already grown to resent the Capitolians.

Then again, it's hard not to, when you know you're going to die and they'll be watching it as entertainment.

I feel sick again, so I decide to end my thoughts and sleep.

As much as I denied it, I was tired. As soon as my head touches the pillow, I'm off to Dreamland.

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**Thanks to **_**Insert a Catchy Penname Here**_ **for reviewing. (I love your stories by the way)**

**I also recently found out about Wattpad, and I have an account! I'll probably post the same stories, but if you have an account there, follow me and I'll gladly follow back! :D**

**So yeah, basically the same stuff- Thanks so much for reading, love ya all. If it's not **_**too **_**much trouble, send a review or follow or favorite over.**

**But overall, just read and it'll be great. Thanks y'all!**

**~hammierox**


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